


Our blood and guts are out

by intheembers



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Cute, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, M/M, Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-16
Updated: 2015-09-16
Packaged: 2018-04-21 02:52:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4812215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intheembers/pseuds/intheembers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After they burry Sams' body....i think xD</p>
            </blockquote>





	Our blood and guts are out

**Author's Note:**

> This is not proofread, not by me and not by anyone else. English is still not my first language so feel free to comment on any errors so i know what i'm doing wrong
> 
>  
> 
> ***

Reality hits Connor like a bitch slap; this is so far from what he’d expected. He is literally chopping up a dead body with a shovel while laughing like the Joker from Batman. The situation is far from amusing and he knows he will live to regret it – sooner or later it will bite him in the ass. This isn’t right, this isn’t something Connor does in his everyday life, and it’s the aftermath of self defence. Blood and guts flying around him like a bad horror movie, it’s so surreal and at the same time, he knows exactly what’s going on. Wes is the one who should be doing it, Wes is the one who should see Sam’s head split in two, brain splattering all over the place. Waitlist is the one who killed Sam, so why does Connor do the dirty work? Maybe because he wants to get it over with, burn the evidence and just go home. As if to distract himself, he starts to sing and put emphasis on every word he utters when the shovel hit Sam’s body “our blood and GUTS are out, we spread out BONES across the table at NIGHT. We cut our FINGERS OF, to give ourselves those little extra INSIGHTS” Guilt was clawing him from the inside as the last evidence of his boss’s husband turns to ashes. “I can’t believe we just did that” Laurel is shaking like a leaf, yet she’s the one who’s keeping it together better than anyone else. Connor picks up his phone and pulls Michaela close to take a picture he can post on the Internet to give them some kind of alibi. They both look like freaks, Michaela with her forced smile and Connor with his hair glued to his forehead. Probably traces of brain, blood or/and guts in there somewhere, the picture is too dark to tell. It takes about two seconds before Connor gets a comment on his photo, a comment from Asher, bitching about how they seem to be partying at the bon fire without him – Asher is the lucky one.

The normal reaction of someone who had just dissected a body with a shovel is not the reaction Connor is giving. All he’s doing is laugh and sing Christmas songs until Michaela screamed at him, because at least she acts like a real human with real emotions, while Connor acts like a complete emotional retard. He wants to care, he wants to turn them in, to tell the police what had happened, but he isn’t alone in this, there’re so many people involved. Then there’s the selfish reason, he don’t want to go to jail and he is to young, to handsome and to important to go to jail anyway. In pure panic he throws his coat in the bonfire while student are drinking and screaming, having fun and acting like college student should act.

Connor leaves his car at Asher’s place, and starts to walk in a fast pace, his eyes fixed on the sidewalk, hand buried deep in his pockets. There is only one place where he can feel safe in times like these, times like these? He snorts, times like these has never happened before – hopefully it won’t happen again.  
The closer he gets the lighter his steps feel, almost like walking on air, or in a par of Nike Free run, the second addition of course. It’s a bit ironic, how he can be in such a hurry to see someone who wants absolutely nothing to do with him, yet he find himself banging on the door with the golden numbers 303. No one is opening, so he tries again and starts pacing back and forth with absolutely no time perception. 

The door is swung open and blocking the entrance is an extremely tired looking Oliver. Oliver – Connor feels the weight of the world being lift from his chest, even though he would never admit it. He can’t seem to stop looking at Oliver’s eyes; they’re beautiful, always hidden behind glasses. Connor has seen Oliver without glasses before but now it hits home, Asian and pretty. He hates Oliver for comparing himself to Connor, always mentioning how Connor can walk trough life, looking like a model and being able to get anyone he wants, when the truth is – Oliver is fucking beautiful in a nerdy kind of way. No way near as unattractive as he think he is, and even though Connor can get anyone he wants, that anyone will never be as good as Oliver. Truth to be told, if this was a different time – a different day, he would walk in, rip the clothes of Oliver’s body and help himself to that hot ass, doing what he do best. This isn’t a good time for sex tough; Connor can barely stand his own presence. Panic and anxiety hanging over his head like halo. Besides, Oliver is dating biceps guy, and if it’s rock hard muscles the nerdy man standing in front of him want’s Connor has no way of winning. 

“It’s six a.m.” Oliver speaks slow and looks suspicious, Connor puts on a fake smile, his mouth seems fairly happy, but his eyes are dead “early bird gets the worm, right?” he starts pacing again, biting his knuckles until the taste of blood spreads in his mouth, he’s had enough of blood for one night. Just the thought of it makes him this close to throwing up, right then and there. “Are you on something?” Connor has forgotten Oliver’s presence and when he sees the concerned look and frowning brow, he looses it completely “I screwed up… I screwed up so bad… I ...I … so bad Oliver” he can barley speak, he just collapses on the floor, back against the wall and starts hyperventilating. “What is that on you face? Is that? Is that blood?” Oliver stares at him for several moments, puts his thumb against Connors cheek and stars rubbing. For all Connor knows it could be blood, dirt or ashes, and at this point he really don’t care.

Somehow Oliver manages to pull Connor inside and close the door. Connor now sits in the shower; cold water running over his body and turning slightly pink before disappearing down the drain. “Connor are you alright, you’ve been in there for half an hour” Connor is nothing but alright, he’s freaking out, scared to death and has never felt so alone in his entire life, and the closer he gets to Oliver, the more alone he feels. His heart is pounding against his ribs, as if it’s ready to leave Connor and start a life outside his body. And since Connor always been the heartless type, he wouldn’t be able to blame it – not even his heart is on his side. 

He turns the water of and grabs a towel “I’m fine” he manages to say loud enough for Oliver to hear him, well aware of the fact that Oliver only cares out of pity. “You are not fine” is the first thing that hits him when he opens the door. Connor can’t deny it, he just lets everything around him fall and he starts to sob like the not so manly man he is. Oliver’s not moving an inch, which is until Connor’s phone starts to vibrate “it’s my boss, she needs me” Oliver takes the phone from him and says a friendly but firm “no” Connor start protesting but Oliver just shakes his head “just…stay here it’s nearly time to get up but…” Oliver doesn’t sound sure but he takes Connors hand and walk towards the bed. Connor is too tired to resist, he just takes a shaky breath and sinks down in Oliver’s extremely soft bed. 

Without thinking Connor curls up next to Oliver’s warm body and grips his arm tight, his fingernails leaving marks shaped like half moons over the soft skin, “there was so much blood” he mumbles and moves as close to Oliver that’s physically possible. He lets his fingertips trace the outline of Oliver muscles, as if to distract himself from thinking about how the inside of a human body looks like live. Oliver just holds him, strokes his back and whispers reassuring words even though Connor doesn’t deserve it. Not after everything I has done and said, specially what he has said- and done to Oliver. Still he lies there in his non-deserving situation listening to Oliver’s even heartbeats. 

After everything Oliver has done for him Oliver deserves some kind of truth. He can’t give Oliver the whole truth, maybe not even half of it, but he can give him something “so much blood” he repeats, trying his hardest not to start hyperventilate or cry again. “Whose blood?” Connor considers a lie before he whimpers ”Sam’s, he’s dead” he is sure Oliver will loose the tight grip and push him out the door, but all Oliver does is hold him tighter “did you kill him?” Oliver sound so indifferent Connor’s heart stops, it’s not the reaction he’d expected “no one can know” he says, and shakes his head “I didn’t kill him, Wes…it was self defence… and… he would have killed Rebecca” He adds hoping that someone in this god forsaken world will believe him “then I guess, everything will be okay” and all of a sudden, in that exact moment, Connor doesn’t feel so alone anymore.


End file.
